


The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

by jenna221b



Series: The Trial of Sherlock Holmes [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 1895, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Desperately unspoken, Drama, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Oscar Wilde - Freeform, Screenplay/Script Format, Sherlock Special, TJLC | The Johnlock Conspiracy, The Abominable Bride, The Final Problem, The Old Bailey, Very sincerely yours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5367071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/jenna221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't forget, Watson. You won't fail me. You never did fail me."<br/>~Sherlock Holmes, The Dying Detective</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET. LIVING ROOM. AFTERNOON.**

**SHERLOCK** sitting on his armchair, alone. Smoking his pipe rapidly, the puffs of smoke almost obscuring the top of his head.

A CRASH from upstairs. **SHERLOCK** merely glances upwards, unperturbed. He brings out his pocket watch, glances at the time. His face a mixture of emotions: Amused, fond. Fearful.

**CUT TO:**

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET. JOHN’S BEDROOM.**

The room is a mess. The bed is littered with loose sheets of paper: old manuscripts, copies of the Strand magazine, various notebooks.

**JOHN** is rooting through the papers, searching for something. Becomes increasingly anxious as time passes.

**JOHN:**

(feverishly, to himself)

Come on, where, _where_ -

An idea! Hopeful, **JOHN** seizes upon his bedside cabinet and empties the drawers onto the bed. Not what he’s looking for.

**JOHN:**

(closing his eyes)

My God.

**BACK TO:**

**INT. LIVING ROOM.**

**JOHN:**

(striding in)

Holmes! ...Holmes?

**SHERLOCK** is not there. **JOHN** heads to the window, and takes a furtive peep out from behind the closed curtains.

A hansom cab is just drawing away from **221B BAKER STREET. JOHN** sighs.

**CUT TO:**

**EXT. THE OLD BAILEY.**

A cacophony of noise: cluster of reporters, mixed with curious, gawking on-lookers. Young boys selling newspapers with the headline: **SHERLOCK HOLMES & THE TRIAL OF THE CENTURY.**

We see a hansom cab stop a slight distance away from the daunting crowd. The cab door opens: it is **JOHN**. He pays the driver, and steps out. Frowns at the ever growing crowd of people.

**NEWSPAPER BOY:**

Oi, Doctor Watson! Can’t wait to read your _story_ about this ‘un!

The crowd laugh and jeer. **JOHN** sniffs, but otherwise ignores them, shoving past anyone who happens to be in his way.

**CUT TO:**

**INT. THE OLD BAILEY.**

**JOHN’S** pace is markedly slower, more cautious.

**SHERLOCK:**

(off screen, furtively)

**CUT TO:**

**JOHN** and **SHERLOCK** in a darkened corridor. Just out of sight of those entering the court. They are standing next to each other with their backs to the wall, tense and alert.

**SHERLOCK:**

Hardly ideal this, but I suppose it will have to do-

**JOHN:**

(tentative)

Holmes-

**SHERLOCK:**

-this shouldn’t take too long, in any case. Of course, there’s always-

**JOHN:**

(louder)

Holmes-

**SHERLOCK:**

-certain variables, circumstances beyond our control-

**JOHN:**

_Holmes!_

At last, **SHERLOCK** falls silent. **JOHN** takes a deep breath.

**JOHN:**

I can’t find it.

**SHERLOCK:**

What?

**JOHN:**

The _letter_ , Holmes.

A pause as they both take in the gravity of the situation. They are both determinedly not looking at one another.

**SHERLOCK:**

Which letter? That could refer to any number of-

**JOHN:**

Oh, don’t play the fool, not now. You _know_ what I am talking about.

A beat. JOHN clears his throat, eyes downcast. Defeated.

**SHERLOCK:**

(gently)

Perhaps you simply mislaid it.

**JOHN** looks up sharply at this, and their eyes meet at last.

**JOHN:**

You know I would never-

Faintly, a clock chimes, striking the hour. They are out of time. **SHERLOCK** closes his eyes, then opens them again. We can see him putting up the walls of his public persona: Sherlock Holmes, the Consulting Detective.

**SHERLOCK:**

Right, then. Into battle.

**JOHN** takes a step forward, and grasps **SHERLOCK’S** upper arm.

**JOHN:**

Holmes-

**SHERLOCK** has frozen in place. They both glance at **JOHN’S** hand on **SHERLOCK’S** arm.

**JOHN:**

(a tortured whisper)

I am sorry I failed you.

**SHERLOCK** smiles, sad, affectionate, and understanding.

**SHERLOCK:**

(softly)

Oh, John. You could never fail me.

**JOHN** is speechless. He is still holding onto **SHERLOCK’S** arm. **SHERLOCK** carefully manoeuvres himself away, then turns and walks down the corridor, alone. He is ready for this war.

END SCENE. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find this on my tumblr [here.](http://jenna221b.tumblr.com/post/134663517815/you-wont-fail-me-you-could-never-fail-me-pls)


End file.
